Page 10 of Artfully Wild
“Hello! Skylar! An old lady needs some help over here!” I give Jacob a tight smile before heading to the front, leg freshly cleaned and bandaged. An unsatisfied heat settling low in my stomach.
“I’m right here, Granny,” I start, sounding as exasperated as I feel, but then I remember she’s a paying customer and, well, she’s Cordie. She insists we call her Granny and has treated us like we were her grandkids by blood, so she deserves a little more respect. Even though I am more annoyed with her than Ihave ever been considering what she just interrupted. What would have happened if she didn’t walk into the store when she did? Would I have actually pulled Jacob to me? Kissed him? Would he have let me? Wanted me? I don’t think I’ve ever feltthatwanted before.
“I’m sorry, did I interrupt something important?”
My cheeks flush and I wonder if she actually senses something or if she is just responding to my tone. Who am I kidding, she knows. She knows everything. She knows I like Jacob. She knows I just almost made a move on him and she knows I plan to maybe, possibly do it again the second she leaves the store given the chance.
She. Knows.
“Uh…” I hesitate. “No, sorry, distracted is all, with the display up front. I was carrying too much and tripped.” I turn my back to her, sticking out my leg to show her the bandage now hiding the fresh scrape. “I had to bandage it up in the storage room.”
“Well, I had to, really.” Jacob comes out of the storage room and around the desk, leaning on it with his elbow. “Mornin’ Gran.”
Granny’s eyebrows shoot up so high, they almost disappear into her long gray hair. A wide grin slowly spreads across her face and I already know, the second she leaves, she’s calling her roommate, Fran. They’ve been trying to meddle between Jacob and me for years. Only recently did they back off, with Hudson and Avery to focus on, but now that those two are engaged, it looks like I am back to slot number one on their town match-making list.
Hooray for me.
“Ahhh,” she says like she just discovered the secret to Fran’s cinnamon bread. “I see.”
The sly grin stays plastered on her face, like a kid in a candyshop fully aware they’re going to swindle their parents into getting them more treats than they formerly agreed upon.
I ignore her look and the tone that says she clearly knows the tension between Jacob and I tightened even more in that storage room, and cross my arms. “Are you looking for anything in particular? Or can I help you when we are actually open?”
I feel self-conscious in my sleep shorts. Then again, the closed sign is there for a reason. This town chooses to ignore it.
“I think I found all I need,” she responds, looking between us. I look sideways at Jacob, who is…blushing? I don’t know if I have ever seen him blush like that before—fully in his cheeks and traveling down his throat. Without a word, he takes off toward the display and starts cleaning up my mess, propping the snowboards off to the side and moving the helmet I tripped over. Max pokes his head out of the hammock he was still snoozing in to greet Jacob who obliges with chin scratches. I think the rest of the clean up will be up to me, because I can guarantee when I am finished helping Granny, Jacob will be in the same spot, giving his full, undivided attention to Max.
“I was just wanting to see what kind of fire pits you had in stock? I was thinking of having work done in the back of the inn and having Hudson or Elias add in some fire pits for the guests.”
“That’s actually a really good idea.”
“Don’t say it like you’re surprised an old biddy like me can still have ideas.” She puts emphasis on the last word and I can’t help but laugh. “I’m old, not boring. I like to spruce things up now and then.”
“You should know by now that anyone who knows you would never dare to call you boring.” I motion for her to follow me and start toward the back of the store where we have a few fire pits and try my hardest not to get distracted by the man in my front window.
CHAPTER SIX
JACOB
Ikeep my eyes on Max and try to ignore the feeling of Skylar’s eyes on me from across the store. I have no idea if it was my migraine-hazed coma or not, but she looked at me differently while we were in the storage room. She looked at me like there was something else there than our usual platonic friendship. And as much as I have wished there would be since we were kids, I can’t remember her ever looking at me like that. Like she wanted me?
She leaned forward for a second like she wanted to kiss me. Or for me to kiss her? Both? I rub my hands down my face and relieve the pressure of my migraine hangover for a few seconds. I turn around to focus on the display she was working on before I came down.
She’s always taken care of me if I needed extra help with my migraines, but usually, she lets me sleep and leaves me alone after that. Last night, she slept with me and held me and it was…perfect. Sure, we’ve shared a bed before, but something was different this time.Shewas different. I’ve always thought my feelings were one-sided and she never gave any indication that they might not be. But the few instances between last nightand now give me hope. What do I do with that information? I have no idea.
But I have to center my mind on asking for her help, again, though this time for a completely different reason than my migraines and animals. Even though I would like to stall for as long as I possibly can, because I know she has other things to worry about, the Winter Festival is in a little over three weeks—the week before Christmas—so we don’t have that much time to work on the paintings I am hoping she will agree to.
Once she is finished helping Cordie, she checks her out with a promise to make Hudson deliver the fire pits later this week. Cordie passes by me on her way to the door, but stops shortly before she reaches it. “Don’t mess it up, J.” She reaches up to pat my cheek a little too hard to consider affectionate and leaves the store, a smile wide on her face as she pulls out her flip phone. Calling Fran, no doubt.
Skylar reaches over to pet Max, using him as a distraction I’m guessing. I take a deep breath, trying to figure out how to ask for her help without becoming a burden. Again. But before I can get anything out, she suddenly looks up at me, meeting my eyes. And I’m lost in the freckles that sprinkle the bridge of her nose and across her cheek bones.
“So.” She starts like she’s going to say something else. When she doesn’t, I chime in.
“So,” I repeat and then internally kick myself, because that sounded ridiculous. Why is this awkward? This is Skylar. My best friend. We are never awkward. “Uhhh, thanks for last night.” Inwardly, I cringe at myself. That sounded weird.
She laughs and then laughs harder when she catches the double meaning. The air is filled with her laughter and my heart soars at the sound. Musical and deep. “How do you feel?” she asks after she catches her breath.
“Better. A little bit of a hangover, but I’ll survive.”
